


Never Again

by scarecrowstories



Category: Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Gen, M/M, Solitary Confinement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:44:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarecrowstories/pseuds/scarecrowstories
Summary: Anders reflects on his experiences during his time at Vigil's Keep. He thinks of Karl, of what the two of them could have if only things were different.





	Never Again

**Author's Note:**

> Look, I know I disappeared from here for like -looks at calendar- Two Years but uhhhhhhhh my life has become an eternal dumpster fire and all I can promise is that yes, my multichap fic will eventually be finished. In the meantime I uhhhh.... I have This for you. As always I can be found on Tumblr at scarecrowstories.
> 
> Enjoy!

He wouldn't let them take him again, not when every time was worse than the last. The horrific memories of his time in solitary confinement combined with thoughts of Karl fueled him onward. Deep down Anders knew that if he was captured and returned to the Circle this time it would be the end of him. What would they do? Solitary confinement again, but for longer? Something worse? At this point he didn't trust them not to make him Tranquil.

This is why he felt such a wave of relief when the Warden conscripted him. On the one hand, no, joining the Grey Wardens was never something he particularly cared about. The Blight was a terrible thing, but he had other more present terrible things on his plate, like the tortures of being a prisoner in the Circle. And wasn't it just another type of imprisonment, being bound to an organization like that? Wouldn't it be dangerous in its own ways? He certainly wasn't keen on the idea of following orders, especially at risk to his own safety. Not after all the effort he put into escaping. And yet…

It took time to sink in, but one day in Amaranthine with the Warden, it hit him: the next time Templars came for him, he was untouchable. No matter what they said, they couldn't take him away anymore. He was making friends, he was given a cat, he had a roof over his head and food on his plate, and all of these things came without oppressive Templar oversight. One morning he even caught himself smiling as he got dressed for the day, humming a simple tune as he brushed his hair. It wasn't a perfect life, but he was starting to think that he could be happy here in Vigil's Keep.

As he breathed in the fresh air and savored every ray of sun on his skin, Anders tried to suppress the anger that simmered just below the surface. This present is what mattered more than anything else, he told himself. He was finally free, and if he also had to fight Darkspawn and the like, well, at least it was better than that cold, dark cell. Nearly every night he woke up in a panicked sweat, eyes wildly searching around the unlit room for a sign that he wasn't back there, trapped, alone. As he pet Ser Pounce-a-Lot his fear grew more distant again for the time being.

He told himself it was enough to have his freedom. Recovering from what had been done to him wasn't going to be easy, but seeing the world around him rebuilding from the Blight gave him hope. At the very least, he wasn't alone in trying to rebuild a new life from the ashes of tragedy. 

He thought of Karl constantly. Wouldn't it be wonderful if he didn't have to stay at Vigil's Keep and could seek him out? He fantasized about breaking Karl free and running away together, the innocent daydreaming of a lovesick man. If things were different, they could have a home, raise a child, drink in the joy of a shared existence filled with love. 

And yet even as he put on a brave face and made jokes about his bad experiences, he could feel it creeping into his heart: an untamable rage. It disturbed him, and he wasn't always able to cover it up with humor and deflection. The more he befriended Justice the harder that became as the spirit's questions cut him to the core. How could he sit by while other mages were suffering as he had suffered? How could he be content with his own freedom while his people were tortured and killed every day? Shouldn't he be doing something?

At night was when it was worst. He would tell himself that this new life could be enough if only he would allow it to be. The opportunity to earn a living by protecting others was here, as were friends, and freedom. The Wardens could use someone like him, a healer, and theirs was a noble cause. He felt guilty at his own dissatisfaction. It seemed greedy to desire more, even when that "more" was liberation for his people.

He should be happy. He should accept his new life as the gift it was, thank the Maker for affirming that people like him had value. But the more he walked the streets of Amaranthine and experienced the minutia of freedom such as deciding to buy himself an attractive pair of earrings, or enjoying food from a street vendor, the more his heart broke for Karl. Why couldn't they be here doing these things together? Countless others were able to enjoy precisely that, and the only difference was that they did not possess magic. And why should something so arbitrary draw the line between a life in the sun versus one spent wasting away in a guarded tower?

They should be free to walk these streets together, taking in the ambient energy of life all around them: the sound of wind in the trees, the distant raucous laughter emanating from a pub, the casual bartering with merchants. A young couple could hold hands in the streets without fear, and even go out on dates, being openly affectionate in public. Why couldn’t he and Karl have that? Why couldn't they drink together in a tavern, delight in the sounds of music and each other? Why were they not allowed to love one another shamelessly, learn each other's bodies intimately without fear? A thousand possibilities stolen from him before ever having the chance to bloom, and the more he experienced of freedom, the deeper this dissatisfaction grew.

More and more frequently during their conversations Justice would ask why Anders wasn't doing anything to right these wrongs. At first Anders would say he didn't know what could be done that he was personally capable of doing, but even then he knew that wasn't the entire truth. He had some ideas, but the task seemed insurmountable. If the entire system of having Circles were eliminated, there would be no more mages like him wrestling with the final memories of their parents faces as they were dragged away in chains to the Circle like a criminal. No more children sleeping in crowded dormitories crying out for their mothers who had thrown them to the Templars as easily as disposing of garbage. No more Harrowings or Tranquil.

No more. Never again. And all it would take…

But no, there was no reducing the task to something so simple. He couldn't "just" abolish the Circles. That would be impossible for one man to do.

And Justice would ask why. Why can't one man do it? What's stopping him?

It was getting harder to explain away his inaction. And when that fateful day arrived that he merged with Justice, he felt as though he finally understood the anger he had long harbored. It would be the wind in his sail as he stopped cowering and started fighting back. If he felt untouchable as a Warden, it paled in comparison to surge of righteousness Justice filled him with. 

They would never harm him again, and he wouldn't stop until every last mage was free.


End file.
